


despair in the departure lounge

by barbiemalik



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: M/M, and a lot of messy kissing in the back row of harry's favorite showing area, and harry is always working, louis is always high, they fall in love over a couple of a pot brownies
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-06-18
Updated: 2015-06-19
Packaged: 2018-04-05 01:30:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,995
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4160511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/barbiemalik/pseuds/barbiemalik
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Er, what can I get you, sir?"</p><p>"I'm high as fuck, if we're being real here, and I bought a movie ticket for some dumb fucking movie I've never heard of and, frankly have no interest in seeing, and I, Louis Tomlinson, will have you know that I, sadly, have no one to share the popcorn I'm about to buy with for this boring ass fucking movie. So there's my dilemma, not like you'd care."</p><p>or the one where harry works at a movie theater and louis is high and alone and looking for a movie to see</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. so high - ghost loft

**Author's Note:**

> it's olivia here, and i've just been coming up with these ideas late late at night while i'm just thinking about louis and harry so here this is, hope you enjoy. feel free to leave kudos and comments to let me know what ya think :)
> 
> love as always,
> 
> olivia x.

So, yeah, Harry hates working the shift where he has to stay and close up the theater because no one shows up on a Wednesday night looking to see the new Spongebob movie, and despite loving to work the cash register, that's the only perk. He's always tired and bored and tempted to snag a box of chocolate covered cookie dough bites from the glass shelf. But we all have to get by somehow, right?

It's 7:23 on a Wednesday night, and as always, Harry is near falling asleep. No one's walked in since the last movie began, and the next movie's showing is at 8. So far, no one's come in early to buy their tickets. Except this one guy, who Harry noticed ran into the glass doors of the place and nearly cracked his head open. He could barely contain his laughter (which is loud and annoying, but hey, we all have our flaws) when the boy finally realized that there  _was_ indeed a glass door in front of him. He was short, handsome, and scruffy. He looked as though he'd just rolled out of bed and thrown on a pair of baggy Adidas sweatpants and a matching grey sweatshirt. Harry began to realize soon after he started working here that people would only come to see movies as an excuse to snog in the back row or watch trippy movies while being stoned as fuck. Harry wasn't the type to smoke, really, but on the other hand, he'd never really been exposed to it. His flat mates barely smoked around him (mostly because Harry would complain about the skunk smell and was irritated that they would even have the audacity to expose his linen sheets to such a foul smell), so he never really tried it. He liked stoners though, like Zayn, for example, because they were always laid back and didn't give a lot of shits about how life would unravel for them. Which Harry guessed was a blessing and a curse at the same time. 

The boy who'd just run into the glass door began slowly approaching Harry, and that's when he realized the boy was absolutely, utterly, stoned. His eyes were bloodshot yet his fringe perfectly molded his handsome face, and that's when Harry admired his cheekbones. He'd never seen a boy with such lovely facial features. As the boy reached the concession stand, Harry panicked. He never has been much good around attractive men.

"Er, what can I get you, sir?"

"I'm high as fuck, if we're being real here, and I bought a movie ticket for some dumb fucking movie I've never heard of and, frankly have no interest in seeing, and I, Louis Tomlinson, will have you know that I, sadly, have no one to share the popcorn I'm about to buy with for this boring ass fucking movie. So there's my dilemma, not like you'd care."

The boy's (somewhat) intelligent response set a smile to Harry's face. "Oh, well, I'm sorry to hear tha-"

"Don't," the boy who now has a name cuts off, "I don't need your sympathy dude."

"I'm Harry," Harry smirks, pointing to the shiny name tag clipped to his blue buttoned down shirt (uniform, he'd called it, but the theater was so broke that they'd never even bothered assigning any of their workers a coordinated dress code).

"I already said my name, I think. Ah, shit, I'm so fucking stoned." Louis giggles into his sweatshirt, hiding his cheekbones. Harry is oddly intrigued by this tiny human. 

"It's okay, man. Sooo, anything to drink? or eat?"

"Erm, well, I brought some brownies with me. I don't know if it's, like, legal to bring those into a movie theater. I don't really care."

As illegal as it was to even have brownies in general, Harry decides it's okay, because this boy is so cute and giggly and high that he doesn't really care either.

"It's not, but I don't really care either. This job is shit, so like, if I get caught letting you do this, I think I'll be okay."

"Unless you go to jail," Louis snaps. A light hearted joke, Harry takes it as.

"That's true. Erm, so, nothing to eat I'm guessing?"

"Nah, 'll have a soda though. You got Ribena?" Louis steps closer to the register, putting his elbows on the glass and resting his head in his hands, gazing up at Harry. Jesus Christ.

"We do, yeah. That'll be 4.95, if you want a small."

"Jesus fucking christ that's expensive. What's a guy gotta do around here to get a fucking soda that's not 4.95? Fucking bloody hell, here," Louis says, handing over Harry a couple euros. 

"Could've always gone to the theater down the road. We're in battle right now, actually. I shot the concession stand guy with a bottle of mustard the other day, like, as a gun," Sometimes Harry likes to make jokes which aren't ever that funny, he's realized, but it doesn't mean he'll stop making them.

"Mmm, could've," Louis says, ignoring Harry's attempt at flirting, "But then I never would've stumbled upon your cute little face, Harry." With this, Louis shoots a wink which immediately causes Harry to blush. Like, really blush.

Shit. Shit shit shit. Harry feels it. The fucking butterflies bubbling up in his stomach, the heat spreading across his face like he's been burned by the sun. Louis didn't really just say that, right? Harry's never been quite good at accepting compliments because he's so damn awkward. So, yeah, this is wonderful yet excruciatingly painful because Harry is just a noodle legged 5'11 large version of a little boy (as Niall always says) that can't take a compliment for shit. 

"Erm, yeah. Guess you wouldn't have," Harry replies, looking down at Louis' puppy eyes that are burning red and look like they've been permanently like that for a couple of days now. Harry feels just as high as Louis probably does right this moment.

"So anyways, Harry.. what's your last name again?"

"Oh, I, um, didn't say it yet. It's Styles. Harry Styles."

"Hi Harry Styles. You're very beautiful, and it's getting late," (Harry realizes it's only been a couple of minutes since Louis waltzed in so it's only 7:30 and Louis is complaining about it being late when the late part of the night hasn't even begun yet) "I'm still without a date to share these goodies with, so, would you care to join me, Harry Styles?"

That wonderful gut wrenching feeling Harry gets when he's happy happens right as Louis says this, and all Harry can manage to do is nod and smile. Nod and smile. What a fucking move.

It's probably really bad that Harry has just agreed to leave his shift right in the middle of his working hours to see a movie with some handsome stoner whom he's just met, but at the same time, Harry really doesn't want to give a shit. He realizes that making a new friend might be beneficial, and maybe his boss won't be _too_ mad when Harry explains that the boy was stuck in a rut and had absolutely no one else to indulge popcorn with (even though Louis mentioned he wasn't exactly having popcorn) and so Harry was being a nice and generous and giving person by attending the movie with this boy, and yes, missing his shift, and yes, leaving it abandoned, but at the same time, at this point, Harry would already have made a nice new friend and maybe even tried a couple of brownies. The future is forever, he justifies.

"I got tickets to see the new Spongebob movie, is what it says right here." Louis continues, smacking Harry straight out of his trance and overthinking. He could use a little loosening up.

Of course he did, Harry thinks, of course he fucking did.


	2. the night is still young

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> some smut. that's all you need to know.
> 
> olivia x.

"Now I'm kinda regretting not buying popcorn, if I'm being honest," Louis says, breaking the silence of the movie commercials. It's 5 minutes until 8 and Louis and Harry are sitting side by side in Harry's favorite showing area (the theater farthest to the left, of course) and awkwardly bumping hands as they reach into the plastic bag of goodies Louis has already divulged half of. 

"These are pretty shit, sorry," Louis says after receiving no clear response from Harry the first time he spoke. He guesses Harry is too high to even realize he's speaking. Been there done that.

"No, no they're good. I like them. I've never, erm, done this exactly before." Harry's look of innocence gives Louis a sort of pain in his chest. Guilt..is that what they call it?

"There's not much to it, love. You just eat them and it just comes to you," he replies confidently.

Again, with the fucking use of the word love, Harry cringes and butterflies burst from him stomach right up to his mouth.

"Yeah, okay, yeah. I guess I'll be okay."

"What are ya talking about? Of course you'll be okay, you're in the hands of Louis Tomlinson here. Proud to be a stoner and the world champion of best blowjobs around."

The sudden rotation of topics has Harry bunched up in his pants. Shit. He saw this coming.

"Is that so? Who gave you that title? Because I'm pretty sure I've beat it a couple of times, if I do say so myself."

Finally, Harry's walls are breaking down and he can finally let loose a little. Well, only because of the weed, but that's beside the point. Harry feels so naturally comfortable around Louis, which is weird, because he's never been like this with anyone.

"Sure, Styles. Try me."

Before Harry can even respond, Louis has already leaned over and stuck his smooth tongue straight down Harry's throat. Not like he's complaining, though. Almost instantly, Harry's impulse tells him to grab the back of Louis' neck and stroke the back of his hair; fortunately for Harry, Louis seems to like it. A lot. (Harry can hear the slight moans Louis makes when he tugs on the strands of hair).

The back and forth of battling for tongue domination has Harry on the edge of explosion. Louis' body eventually finds its way to fit into the curve of Harry's lap, which contains a bulge on the verge of exposure, and grinds up against Harry's hard-on. Christ, it's 8 on a Wednesday night and _this_ is the night Harry finally gets the long awaited action he's been dreaming about.

"Fuck, you're so hot Louis. Who even _are_ you?" Harry interrupts as Louis begins to unbutton his pants.

"I'm the one you've been looking for, Styles, obviously," Louis smirks, "Now pull your pants down or I'll have to do it for you."

Now, the thought of Louis taking off his pants for him wouldn't be considered a bad thing in Harry's innocent mind, but Louis' dominant tone has Harry on his knees before he can even say please.

"You're killing me here," Harry begs as Louis teases his hands along the bulge beneath Harry's briefs.

"It's only the first date, Harry. You think I'm that easy? No way."

It ends before Harry thought it even began. It's over within seconds. The kiss was hot and steamy, yeah, but Louis basically promised Harry a blow. Well, that's how he interpreted it at least.

"I never said you were easy. But, you did say you were the world's best blowjob giver."

"And did I say world's best blowjob on the first date? Didn't think so. You're smooth, though."

"That means we'll have to do this again some time," Harry says smugly, with a pout on his face that he didn't realize was there until Louis replied with,

"We haven't even gotten through the first date yet, Styles. Don't get ahead of yourself. I'm a catch," Louis replies, winking. This boy is going to kill him for sure.

 


End file.
